At 21, this aerospace engineering student, former refugee has created her first invention

LES PERREAUX

Shoushi Bakarian, an aerospace engineering student at Concordia University, poses for a photograph with a ventilation device that she redesigned for Cessna Aircraft, at Stratos Aviation in Montreal on Oct. 30, 2018. Bakarian arrived from Syria in 2016.

This is part of Stepping Up, a series introducing Canadians to their country’s new sources of inspiration and leadership.

The distance from Aleppo to the lab at Montreal’s Trudeau airport where a young engineer-in-training is perfecting her first invention is 8,580 kilometres, but Shoushi Bakarian’s trajectory might better be measured in light speed.

Three years ago, Ms. Bakarian was sitting in Lebanon, part of a family of four Syrian refugees facing an uncertain future with hope of making a new start in Canada. Fast-forward those 36 months: Ms. Bakarian is in her third year of aerospace engineering at Montreal’s Concordia University. She has learned her fourth language, French – in addition to English, Arabic and Armenian. She’s got two part-time jobs with promising prospects in her field: one in the parts department at Bombardier Aerospace and another at Stratos Aviation, a small aviation and flight simulation firm. There, she’s co-created her first invention in the lab she’s building. Oh, and she leads a Scout troop where she hopes to influence her young charges.

She’s 21. “I want to reach girls and tell them they don’t have to limit themselves to traditional jobs, like teachers. Especially for girls from my community, they have a very limited idea of what’s out there,” Ms. Bakarian says. “I want to become an example.”

On a recent late fall day, Ms. Bakarian tinkers with the tiny generator fan blades of her latest accomplishment: The Ventus, a 5-volt accessory charger for Cessna airplanes that runs off the aircraft’s air vents and as an added bonus cools the air by compressing it. The simple blue tube prototype seems likely to become a must-have accessory for pilots who rely on tablets and smartphones for aviation computation but fly aircraft that were mostly built long before the smartphone era.

“I like clean energy, solar power, wind power, so we developed it further to add on the charger idea,” she says. “I spent my summer designing, drawing and testing until it worked.”

Naor Cohen, the owner of Stratos Aviation, hired Ms. Bakarian within days of meeting her during an outreach program for women in aviation about a year ago. Ms. Bakarian started out as an instructor on the company’s flight simulators. One day he shared an idea he had to improve cooling small Cessna cabins by using a Venturi tube to compress and cool the air. He invited her to set up a lab with computers and 3-D printers and she ran with it.

“I guess she must sleep very little,” Mr. Cohen says. “We’ve never seen her as an employee, and more as a partner in the team. She’s free to come whenever stuff needs to be done. Right now, she’s concentrating mainly on the lab. We want to put that imagination and creativity to work more.”

Ms. Bakarian arrived in Canada on Christmas Eve, 2015, with her father, Antaranik, her mother, Ani, and her now-24-year-old sister, Meghri. The daughters had high school diplomas earned during the Syrian civil war with rockets flying overhead and bombs bursting not far from their Armenian school in Aleppo.

Small details come back to Ms. Bakarian as she remembers the time. “Our school was in the firing line, so we had to study in a kindergarten in these tiny little chairs,” she recalls. “I always make jokes about it, but it’s not funny.”

By 2015, the battle for Aleppo had settled into a stalemate and her family was stuck. “In Grade 10, the big bombs started, by Grade 11, we were without electricity or running water or internet. Some people started to leave but we didn’t know how to get out of Aleppo. We didn’t know who was on the road waiting to kidnap us. … Once the missiles started falling, we didn’t know where they were coming from or where they’d land.”

A turning point came when her mother needed surgery that had to be performed in Lebanon. The medical issue combined with mounting violence forced the family to make a move. They spent a year in Lebanon while she recovered. Her parents concluded the family would have limited education and work opportunities in that country. That’s when Canada opened the doors to Syrian refugees.

In those early Canadian winter days, the family enrolled in French classes while all four of them set about finding work. Ms. Bakarian got hired at McDonald’s, a job she kept as she enrolled at Concordia, which helped her family survive while her parents found work in the garment industry. It was a step down from her father’s previous job managing a tools warehouse. Meghri, meanwhile, is specializing in child studies at Concordia.

Ms. Bakarian is grateful for the sacrifices her parents made, but she made some, too. She was almost crushed by workload as a first-year university student who was working 30 hours a week at her fast food job. “I was physically, emotionally and mentally exhausted,” she says. “But now I’m making up for it. My family is okay now, and it’s easier.”

Arpi Hamalian, an education professor emerita at Concordia University, took the younger Bakarian women under her wing when they showed up at an orientation in early 2016. “They were looking a little lost,” Dr. Hamalian recalls now, but it didn’t take long for them to get on track. “Shoushi, well both girls really, know exactly who they are and where they are going. They are unbelievably talented, focused and team-oriented. There aren’t many like them.”

EmaxHealth wrote: Doctor Vaagn Andikyan of Armenian decent, attributes the successful treatment and good prognosis to the delivery of high quality, compassionate care, and team-based collaboration by cancer care experts at the Danbury Hospital.

Mary Bonomo, an 82-year-old resident of Bethel, Connecticut, spent the day after Christmas last year in an emergency department with shortness of breath. On New Year’s Eve 2016, she learned that cancer cells had migrated from her ovaries to her lungs. She was diagnosed with stage IV ovarian cancer. Mrs. Bonomo will celebrate this holiday season cancer-free thanks to the excellent care she received at Danbury Hospital.

Mrs. Bonomo was diagnosed while visiting her daughter in Maryland. She chose Danbury Hospital to manage her cancer when she returned home. She consulted with Vaagn Andikyan, MD, a Western Connecticut Health Network (WCHN) gynecological oncologist who practices at Danbury and Norwalk hospitals. Dr. Andikyan and a team of cancer experts from the Praxair Cancer Center at Danbury Hospital, including medical oncologist Wenli Gao, MD, recommended an intense treatment plan: systemic chemotherapy to reduce the cancerous tumors before undergoing major debulking surgery, followed by post-op chemotherapy.

According to the American Cancer Society, about half of the women who are diagnosed with ovarian cancer are 63 years or older. The American Cancer Society also estimates that a woman’s risk of getting ovarian cancer during her lifetime is about 1 in 75, and her lifetime chance of dying from ovarian cancer is about 1 in 100.

Mrs. Bonomo was one of the few patients over 80 years old to be treated for advanced ovarian cancer at Danbury Hospital in 2017.

Despite her age, Dr. Andikyan was optimistic that Mrs. Bonomo would respond well to the treatment plan because of her mindset and her support system, including her husband of 58 years, three children, nine grandchildren, and two great-grandchildren.

“Not all 80 year olds are the same. Mrs. Bonomo was very mobile and had a good support system. She wanted to fight the cancer and we supported her. We took good care of her in an expeditious fashion,” said Dr. Andikyan.

“Dr. Andikyan was very confident. He helped me feel like I had a chance to have a positive outcome. I felt better after I left his office. I felt hopeful. I am very grateful and blessed for that,” said Mrs. Bonomo.

Mrs. Bonomo had her initial chemotherapy January–July 2017 at the Praxair Cancer Center at Danbury Hospital. “The nurses kept it fun. They helped take something that was rather unpleasant and make it a whole lot better. They were wonderful and kept my spirits up throughout the process,” she said. She had successful, major debulking surgery on July 21, 2017, and finished post-op chemotherapy in November. Mrs. Bonomo, an enthusiastic painter, is back to her normal life.

“The services I received from my doctors and nurses at Danbury Hospital and the Praxair Cancer Center are top of the line and changed my life. I am very thankful,” she said.

YEREVAN—An Armenian-made electric car debuted at the 13th annual DigiTec tech expo, which opened in Yerevan earlier today. The electric-powered, self-driving car, which was assembled in Armenia by National Instruments, was unveiled at the “Engineering City” pavilion of the three-day exhibition.

“The whole world is working on [electric cars] and we should do the same in Armenia,” National Instruments’ Ruben Simonyan told Yerevan-based Itel.am. “We need to increase the number of electric cars and the percentage of self-driving or driver assistance systems. We’re exhibiting the electric car we assembled in Armenia. Essentially, it’s a continuation of our engineering culture. This isn’t a novelty. The first electric car was assembled in Armenia back in 1975. Now we should extend that culture,” said Simonyan.

The car is equipped with several driver-assist devices, such as radars, a camera, and laser equipment. Though the sensors and equipment were not produced in Armenia, National Instruments worked on the design and testing of the entire system.

“To make sure that the car will operate smoothly in different situations, you need to drive millions of kilometers. Producers used to do exactly that and some of them still do,” Simonyan explained. “But that requires too much time and expense, which affects the car’s price. Our testing doesn’t require driving millions of kilometers in specialized areas. We can simulate the same scenario for several times to make sure the system is working fine.”

A team of around 20 engineers and designers worked on designing and testing the car, collaborating with several foreign companies.

DigiTec is the largest technological exhibition of the region and runs Sep. 29-Oct. 1 at the Yerevan Expo Center.

Before being accused of using harsh language, I would like to explain my words. Irina Bokova is an offspring of Georgi Bokov - a prominent Bulgarian communist rumored that is responsible for the murder of a prominent Bulgarian intellectual and political figure Rajko Alexsiev after the communist takeover of the country. Since the data are very scares of what exactly happened, it is proved that her father was instrumental in the torture of Rajko Alexsiev before his death. Sons and daughters are not responsible for the deeds of their parents, but having been raised in communist Bulgaria and knowing pretty well the background of her surrounding and political elites at the time, she could not know that the foundation which sponsored the event in Paris promoting the "tolerance" of Azerbaijan where everything Armenian is simply banned, is named after Geidar Aliev - the father of the present president of Azerbaijan, and that the former, before becoming a president of Azerbaijan was the head of the KGB in USSR - the most humanistic organization ever! Is sounds like a joke but the truth is that a foundation named after a communist monster sponsors an event to promote the tolerance of Azerbaijan and the chief of UNESCO, Irina Bokova gladly accepts such sponsorship???

I think, it means mistake or a flaw and the բեխալատ would be the opposite of flaw, I mean flawless. I'm just going with the sentence structure and the Arabic word Khalat means mistake or a flaw, maybe that's where the origin is.

I hope this helps.

I believe the babies flaw is not falling sleep. The last sentence which says that you have one flaw, you don't sleep and stay awake.

Hard to believe that I've waited until close to the last moment to
wish everyone a joyful Christmas.

It's only because I'm strapped for cash after going bonkers this year
and decided I'd use my best resources to get the word out.

Nothing easier and cheaper than to convey my intentions through
this Almanac column. It's okay. You don't have to reciprocate. I get
enough afterthoughts leading up to the New Year and beyond, if you
count Armenian Christmas on Jan. 6.

So let's begin by wishing my family the very best -- my wife, Nancy,
with whom I'll be celebrating our 50th anniversary on Feb. 19. I
chose that date because it was her birthday and I couldn't think of
a better time to exchange our vows.

Cheers go out to the other three favorite people in my life --
children Sonya, Ara and Raffi -- and the six grandchildren in our
lives. Get set for Disneyworld, guys. We've got a lot of celebrating
to do this February in the land of unbroken dreams.

Let's hit the newspaper crowd next -- editor Bill Cantwell, who
peruses my columns each week and makes them readable, along with
climbing cohorts Dave Dyer, Paul Tennant and Mike LaBella. I still
remember that time we got stranded on Mount Katahdin in Maine and
spent the night on a rock studying the stars. Turned out to be a
pretty decent Almanac, as I recall.

You'll find me three afternoons a week playing racquetball at
the Haverhill YMCA. Maybe George Yell will let me win a game this
Christmas. Welcome Clint "CJ" Clay. You're the next generation. I
marvel at the job Executive Director Tracy Fuller does in keeping
that facility intact. Kudos to you, too.

You'll also see me browsing up a storm at the library -- a true
resource for our community -- and all that it avails to me, whether
books, CDs or DVDs. I am proud to admit that both my sons secured
their Eagle Scout badges by doing community projects for the library.

Not a bad consideration for any good scout.

As the 100th anniversary of the Armenian Genocide approaches in 2015,
the congregation at our Armenian Church at Hye Pointe is already at
work planning a milestone commemoration in the community. Watch for
details. While I'm at it, good luck to all those involved with the
church's building project in Ward Hill. It's been a long time in
the making.

Greetings and salutations go out to my doctor, Peter Rees, for keeping
me agile. He sets a fine example for health and fitness. And to my
cardiologist Salmon (Sonny) Ghiasuddin for saving me from expiration --
not once but twice. It's been 10 years since I've become "pipe free."

Same goes for Dr. Alan Gonick and his staff at Greenleaf. Be true to
your teeth -- otherwise they will become false. He makes a root canal
seem so tolerable. My sentiments also go out to Dr. Alvin Yadgood,
my oral surgeon at Northern Essex. I cannot say enough about implants.

I marvel at the work being done by cohorts Kathy Bresnahan and Rita
LaBella in organizing a myriad of activities at the Council on Aging.

There's no reason why any senior citizen in this city should be bored.

The guy behind it all is head honcho Vinny Ouellette, who seems to
have more arms than an octopus.

The ping-pong vibrations you may hear Monday nights come from West
Meadow Road, where some pretty hot table tennis activity is heard. Bob
Baillargeron and Malcolm Anderson are two fine players who don't act
their age. May their paddles always keep them young.

Special Christmas greetings go out to the sick and the infirmed of
this city, those who will spend the holiday in hospitals and nursing
homes. It's not the place you want to be. May you be joined by family
and friends.

Extended wishes are conveyed to the caregivers and medical support
staffers who must work this day to keep the health system mobilized
and in good hands. Santa applauds you.

Here's a greeting to all the police and firefighters who maintain
their constant vigil, holidays or not. And to all those who do not
celebrate Christmas. May some of you get caught up in the spirit,
whether you're a Christian or not.

For one brief day, bury all the bad news and put a moratorium on crime
and punishment. Let's finally end this terrible plight in the Middle
East and live in a world where peace and harmony work hand-in-hand.

Above all, let's put Christ back into Christmas and honor the day
for what it was intended.

The "Welcome Home Natty" poster along with friends and family were what greeted me as I made my way past the Arrival gates of the Montreal Trudeau Airport. In that instant, I felt pretty good about coming home. However, as the days went by, the post-Armenia blues violently kicked in as soon as I found myself doing the same old things I used to do. Suddenly, things that seemed so familiar felt foreign and strange. It was a whole new culture shock but it was real and unfortunately, there wasn’t much I could do about it. The problem was not coming home to friends and family. The problem itself was leaving Armenia. For the little bit that I was back, I couldn’t even look at my photos nor talk about it for fear of being overcome with even more heartbreak and anguish than I already felt. I missed everything and everyone that belonged to my life in Armenia.

Before I know it, I found myself longing for Armenia. I missed waking up every morning to hearing my host mother say “ Parev parev garmir arev siroon jan”. I missed walking down 58 district to catch the marshrutka, 100 drams in hand and giving my regular Parev to the locals. I missed walking home from work and being greeted by the cutest little munchkins from my neighborhood showering me with hugs and kisses. I missed finishing the night off with a nice cup of MacCoffee alongside my host sisters while watching Armenian soap operas. I missed staying up with Nvartig, my baby host sister, till late at night drawing, coloring, playing cards, checkers, chess and teaching her English. I missed going to Ponchig Monchig and ordering a ridiculous amount of food. I missed going to the khorovadz place near the OLAcenter and engaging into a 45 minute conversation with the cook each and every time. I missed getting a ridiculous amount of daily texts and reminders from Allegra. I missed joining my Armenian brothers and sisters over weekend excursions. I missed running in the SAS supermarket and yelling like a crazy person “where’s the Ttvaser ?” before boarding our marshrukta to head back home. As well, as Heeng dzap, Marshrukta 9, besties crew, whatever your face, tracking down wifi, Le Cafe and Sevan’s inspirational speeches among many other things.

The desire to connect to people and the joy of making the connection was life affirming. The physical intensity of the excursions was invigorating. The time walking alone, listening to my own footsteps, sitting in the marshrukta watching the sunset, gazing at the stars was refreshing. Most of all, I long for the way I felt when I was in the Motherland. I felt alive, free, inspired and grateful. Man oh man does Armenia have a way with you. Each and every day there was a goal and an accomplishment that could be measured in different ways: in kilometers, in hugs, in the number of times I laughed out loud.

Although I was only gone for two months and while nothing has changed at home, everything has changed within me. Living in Armenia, gave me a deep appreciation of my life – where I live, where I work, my family and my friends. It also made me appreciate things that we too often take for granted such as the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, weeping eyes, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.

To travel to Armenia is to truly take a journey within yourself. When we leave the comfort of home and everything that we have grown to be accustomed to, we often live more simply, with no more possessions than we can carry. We tend to surrender ourselves by becoming much more accepting to the twists, turns and little surprises that life has to offer. I came to Armenia searching for answers. Instead, I left in search of better questions. Sometimes, the unexpected is just what is needed to put life into perspective.

So here I am, back to my same old routine of stop and go, impatiently waiting to graduate just to start a new adventure. All the while feeling nostalgic about my time in Armenia which can feel heavier than the far too many pounds gained abroad.

When I think about it, perhaps the post-Armenia blues is something you can never truly let go of. For it that where we love is home, home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.

To sign off, I simply cannot say goodbye to those whom I have grown to love, for the memories we have made will last a lifetime and never a goodbye. None of this would have been possible without Birthright Armenia & Armenian Volunteer Corps. For those of you who are thinking of joining the program, I encourage you to take a leap and go for it. Armenia 2012 always in my heart.